Long Shot
by WhoIsThisDamnAuthor
Summary: Arima Suzuha is just your ordinary basketball player. Completely mediocre in every way, she's been far from successful in her six years' worth of experience. She comes to college, and finds a very strange team in front of her. Plus, the coach is an even bigger wacko; the now forty-year old Midorima Shintaro. OC plot, with the main cast of KnB making cameos in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Basketball's a huge, huge passion of mine.**

 **I've watched Kuroko no Basuke what, seven, eight times over?**

 **Anyway, I felt it was time to write a little OC stuff.**

 **Not exactly OC, though. The lead in this one is female.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _The light glinted dully off of the sweaty leather of the ball._

 _She squared her shoulders._

 _The seconds of the clock wound down in slow motion, the decimal digit changing ever so slowly._

 _Two point seven. Six. Five._

 _It was now or never. The miracle had to happen; the alternative was too horrible to imagine._

 _Like a machine, her arms rose, ever so fluidly, as she elevated off the ground._

 _Her marker knew the shot was coming. It had to be._

 _Her jump reached its pinnacle._

 _With a silently mouthed prayer, she released._

 _A crushing feeling of dread accompanied the motion of the ball._

 _Her shot wasn't going in. She knew it._

* * *

 **Long Shot**

 **By WhoIsThisDamnAuthor**

* * *

 _"Join the basketball club here..."_

Arima Suzuha's first day of college was a complete piece of crap. Not only had she forgotten what time it started, she'd missed her train. It wasn't even her fault; JR's train had simply forgotten to arrive. Their famed trains, touted to always be on time, had totally let her down. It wasn't a good thing, also, to realize that ribbons in one's hair wasn't exactly the correct attire for a supposedly mature, eighteen-year-old. She looked like a _moe_ explosion about to happen, any _lolicon-_ lover's paradise.

Add that to the completely retarded fuck-up with the seating arrangements in the University, she'd gotten hustled around from class to class, going up and down several flights of stairs, all in different wings of the massive campus, and getting lost. Oh, this day just could _not_ get any worse.

So, by the time the final bell had rang, she was completely at the end of her tether, dreading the tradition that followed. _Freaking club interactions..._ She mused to herself as she tried to avoid being seen by anyone. She wasn't going to get sucked into this shit. She knew that she would eventually end up at the basketball court some day or the other, but traversing this bustling crowd of people all treating her like some sort of deity wasn't worth the effort.

Taking a humongous detour, Suzuha had finally reached the college gates, when she heard a cry right behind her. Somehow, even the basketball club of this college was socially awkward, hanging out by themselves in the corner. Three or four people, she counted, which was a very small number, given the large droves of people the other clubs had got recruiting for them.

This college, _Shirakawa-daigaku,_ was a middle-tier team in almost every sport they participated in, which was a testament to the number of fucks they gave about that aspect of college life in general. General extracurriculars were very much supported, such as the popular culinary club _(as if that was even a real thing)._ What was heartening to see was the three girls campaigning for the club, while the sole male member sat behind lazily and watched the proceedings.

"Welcome." The _senpai_ in front of her yawned. Despite all appearances, Suzuha was surprised. She knew that the team was lackluster, but a response such as this was unprecedented for any club she'd ever seen. It was like the club didn't even have a minimum membership quota to meet. The boy hadn't even glanced in her direction. _What the heck is going on here?_

"Just fill out this form, and you'll be a member of the club, effective immediately," one of the three said laconically. Suzuha gave the form a perfunctory look-over. It was a standard membership form, with a purple stain on a corner.

"Um, what is this?" she asked the three people in front of her.

"Oh, don't you mind that..." the second girl replied. She brown hair, and had the most outrageously bored look on her face. "It's just a juice stain."

She didn't even know how to respond to that. Nodding dumbly, she took the proffered pen and filled it out. This was so _weird._ She'd seen clubs try out all sorts of strategies to get new recruits, including one that gave the first years a free yearly pass to the city's amusement park if they joined. It was one reason why she stayed away from such shit in general. But this was different. No club had given so few fucks about _club_ activities than this one.

"See you tomorrow at five..." one of them called out from behind her as she walked out.

* * *

 _I wonder what I'll see today..._

There was a chatter in the school outdoors as club activities began in earnest. The trials for the sports teams were happening in the grounds, right next to the gym. As Suzuha passed the field on her way to the building, she saw a chubby, short kid in a fresher's uniform stepping up for a free kick. Stumbling toward the ball with the grace of a wet paper towel, he stubbed his toe into the ground without even touching the ball in front of him, and crumpled in a heap.

 _What are these retards thinking? s_ he mused. Sprinting the last few yards, she skidded to a halt before the main doors. Her wrist-watch said _17:03._

 _It's just a couple of minutes. Who gives a damn?_

Suzuha opened the door and stepped in. Closing it behind her, she took her first look at the court.

Her eyes widened. A guy, probably warming up, had just released a jumper from the three-point line.

 _Poetry in motion._ The only words that filled her mind were those three.

As the fingers broke contact with the ball's surface, it began to rise, spinning backwards ever so subtly.

She knew that it would go in. There was no doubt about it. It rose, and kept rising. Almost reaching the ceiling of the gym, it began its descent. Gaining speed again, it went through the hoop almost vertically, without even grazing the rim.

The guy maintained his follow-through for a full two seconds, then lowered his arms, readjusting his glasses. Somehow, the entire shot, from start to end, would have looked incomplete without that last part. His fingers were at the frame of his spectacles unconsciously, exactly like the feeling the entire shooting motion gave.

Suzuha tore her gaze away from the basketball bouncing under the basket, and looked at the shooter. He seemed tall for a Japanese dude, around six feet four. Age had taken its toll on his spine though, and his slouch probably took a couple inches off his actual height. His dark green hair shone in the slanted rays of the sun, filtering in through the massive windows near the top. A very thinly trimmed French-cut beard completed his visage, along with his thin-rimmed spectacles.

 _Is he the coach or something? Who is this guy?_

She suddenly jumped, startled by the hand on her shoulder. Turning, she saw the three girls from the club recruitments, all in their gym clothes. There were another two behind them, similarly dressed. The boy was also there, skulking near the door.

"All right." her voice hadn't changed one bit since yesterday. "Time for introductions."

The six of them lined up at the baseline, and the girl motioned for her to stand in front. The green-haired bespectacled guy also walked over, but with a noticeable limp in his gait, which seemed to put him through a considerable amount of pain. They all waited in silence for a few seconds, until Suzuha realized that it was her turn to speak.

"Hello," she started, matching the girl's voice in terms of tone. "My name is Arima Suzuha. My height is 165 cm, and I weigh 55 kg. I have played at center for my middle school and high school teams. It is a pleasure to meet you all, and I look forward to playing with you."

Somehow, the reaction she got was surprising. They all seemed disinterested in everything around them. It was like her introduction did not even matter to them one bit. After the overly competitive and cutthroat atmosphere of her previous schools, it seemed like a welcome relief to be amongst so few people.

The girl suddenly frowned, as if she'd remembered something.

"Yes. Ahem. I am Matsuzaka Haruno, the captain. I'm a third year, and I play small forward." she gave her intro as if narrating a shopping list.

"My name is Shizune Yui," the next one said her name. "I am in my fourth year, and my position is center as well."

"Arai Shiki," the third girl from yesterday, the blonde, spoke up. "Second year, point guard."

Suzuha looked over to the two new faces. Their expressions were even less friendly than the previous three, bordering on open hostility.

"Minamoto Kosaki. Third year, shooting guard."

"Orikasa Fumiko. Second year, power forward."

As the boy's turn came up, he gave a derisive snort, before introducing himself.

"Kurosawa Matsuda. I am the manager, I guess..."

Finally, Suzuha turned to the last one in their little group. His presence was imposing. It seemed like there was an aura of control that emanated from his skin, permeating into everything he touched or gazed upon. Suzuha felt like a helpless bunny staring into the jaws of a tiger. Due to the massive height difference, he was able to look down at her right along his nose, his glance already measuring, judging, _calculating_.

"I am the coach of this team."

He paused for effect. The negative effect of this pretentious act was not lost on her, as she shot back her most intense _fuck off_ look at him.

"My name is Midorima Shintaro."

* * *

 **Think I can make this work?**

 **An all-girl team, coached by Midorima?**

 **No harem, people. This one's all about the basketball, and a little wry humor.**

 **Yes, the first chapter's a short one, but I had to end it here. It somehow seemed fitting.**

 **Tell me what you guys think.**

 **Cheers.**

 **P.S. GSW for the win. Literally. 20-0 to begin the season is simply legendary.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Update! Lookie! An update!**

 **No big deal here. I had written this along with the first chapter.**

 **But no guarantees. This story I started simply on a whim.**

 **Let's see how far I can take it.**

* * *

 _The referee walked up with the ball cradled in his arm._

 _This was it. The final match she would ever play._

 _The other center also awaited, with bated breath._

 _It wasn't a question of athleticism. Her opponent was far taller and stronger than her._

 _It all came down to timing._

 _Whistling once to signal the start of the match, the official released the ball vertically upwards._

 _She waited. Noticed her opponent elevate._

 _Wrong. A split second later, she jumped, stretching her hand out._

 _Reaching the falling ball faster than her surprised counterpart, she smiled._

 _Tipping it to her point guard was a piece of cake._

* * *

Now that the quick intros were over, the team began their warm-up. Or so Suzuha thought.

Midorima- _san_ handed her the ball he had been holding. She looked back at him, confused.

"Shoot."

 _HUH?  
_

She didn't understand what was happening. The rest of the team was silent as a rock, some of them stony-faced as well. Holding the basketball in careful hands, she spun it in her fingers, feeling the texture of the entire ball. It had been polished well, and there were no irregularities or bumps at all.

She walked up awkwardly to the free throw line, and set her feet. It was the average distance a jump shot was made from. She was reasonably confident in her mid-range shooting, but making one right off the bat, without a proper warm-up? She wasn't very sure about her chances.

She jumped, taking her shot. As the ball left her palm, she cringed inside. Her form was off, her jump was a disaster, and her palm wasn't even facing the right way. As it clattered off the rim and out, she looked back, her face red. Even for these apathetic people, a show as bad as that had to evoke some...

 _Reaction._ She stared back, completely flabbergasted.

The team had begun their practice. Midorima- _san_ was dishing out lead passes as they all stepped up one by one and took catch-and-shoot jumpers from the wing. The pace at which they took shots was frightening. As soon as the shooter had left the ground, the next girl took her place behind her. They all had different release timings, different stances, different jump heights, and different shot arcs.

The only thing that was constant was their shooting percentage. Every girl was making whatever she took. It was like a fluid machine, the continuous conveyor belt of shooters, taking perfect eighteen-footers off the catch.

Midorima- _san_ drew out his whistle, and blew it in the middle of his throw. Matsuzaka- _san_ was up next. She received the next pass right in stride, dribbled once, and took a flawless step back. Jumping back on her pivot foot, she took a fadeaway, right from the three-point line. The ball sailed in from twenty one feet the same way it did from eighteen. _Swish._

What amazed her was that every player was taking long range shots, regardless of their playing position. Yui _-_ _san_ was taking them with the same confidence and dexterity as Shiki- _san._ _Simply amazing._

And all of a sudden, the perfection was broken. Kosaki- _san's_ foot slipped just a little too far on her step-back jumper. Releasing it well, she still managed to push it through to the rim, but it bounced right out.

As the practice went on, everyone else's flaws became apparent, as they too began to miss the mark. After a whole ten minutes of various types of shots, including half and full-spin jumpers, their overall accuracy still held at an impressive sixty percent or so. Besides the good shooting, Suzuha had noticed one other thing. No one on the team was even close to being _tall._ She'd been a center in her previous schools because there had been no one taller until her second year of high school. She'd quickly been eclipsed by even shooting guards, but she'd remained competitive by refining every aspect of her game.

Not that that had done her much good. She'd still remained aggressively average with her skills. But here, on this team of college students, there was no one who looked anything above five feet four inches. She was the tallest here, without a doubt. Something felt off about this.

But the greatest surprise was the sheer lack of interest any single one of them showed towards doing better. Sure, they were disciplined to a fault, but they seemed mechanical, machine-like. It was very helpful towards eventual efficiency, but they all looked _so bored._

 _It seems like basketball has nothing more to offer them._

The coach, too, seemed disinterested in whether or not his team performed the drills well or not. It was not like they needed disciplining, but even the green-haired man seemed to have given up in life.

The shooting rhythmically continued until Midorima blew his whistle, whereupon the team switched to layup drills. Left and right-handed layups, followed by standard passing, rebounding, and fitness drills. That was then followed by a long, drawn out whistle. The five on the court looked up, pausing their motions, and walked slowly back to the baseline. Making a line like before, they stood there, all looking at Suzuha.

She wasn't particularly high-strung, but this kind of treatment sent a weird chill down her spine. _What is this crazy crap? Fuck me, I should have just walked back home like a normal person, not giving this bunch of psychopaths another glance._

Haruno- _san_ walked up to her. With a start, Suzuha realized she was still holding the ball, standing awkwardly on the other half of the court. She moved a little, and dropped the ball to one side, brushing the front of her gym shorts awkwardly.

As the captain stood and stared at her, she stared back, not willing to give an inch. She had chosen to come here, and she was going to fight it out till the end.

"This is the kind of practice we do here," her voice was flat and emotionless. "No more, and no less. Unlike the various middle school and high school teams you have undoubtedly played for, the aim here is not improvement, but maintenance."

"We are players who have long since hit their peak. A level above which it has become impossible for us to rise." She moved her hand, sweeping across the entire team behind her.

"For us, the only reason we entered the girls' basketball team was because we have nothing else," she said with a finality to her tone that made Suzuha wince internally. _Just how defeatist is this team's mentality? Do they even WANT to win?_

She looked at everyone else in turn. Her teammates had the same dead eyes as the captain's; they all had also lost interest, too disinterested to get themselves out of the rut they had fallen into. Suzuha felt utter dread take over her heart. _What if this is my fate too? Will I also end up like them?_

As she scanned the dull, lifeless faces, she travelled diagonally upwards to meet the coach's green eyes. They too, at first glance, seemed aloof and distant. But as she looked into them, she noticed a flame, concealed under all those layers of apathy. It was a small flame, nearly on the brink of winking out, but she saw it. The determination to make a difference.

Suddenly, her mind went back to the beautiful shot she'd seen, just an hour back. It was just as technically perfect as the ones the girls took, but it had something different in it. It had a fluidity and grace the others simply didn't. It was a shot perfected over months of hard work, efforts towards accomplishing a goal. And the yearning of that effort to be fruitful was what made the release so eye-catching, the follow-through so jaw-dropping.

She wanted to shoot like that. To be technically perfect, yet feel the same enthusiasm about her thousandth shot as she felt for the first. And Midorima- _san_ looked like her last chance to learn how to do it. College was going to be her last four years in the sport, after all.

"So, do you think you can reach here? Can you manage to catch up before our first game next month?" the question was as much asked as gazed; the captain's eyes seemed to bore holes in hers.

"Yes!" she shouted. The team seemed startled at her sudden outburst. Suzuha smiled, pleased that she could exact some sort of emotion from their laconic faces. This was going to be interesting, and freaking enjoyable. This was an opportunity rife with possibilities. She could practice whenever she wanted, without the fear of ever being replaced for under-performing.

Midorima suddenly shook his head, as if waking from a trance. He carefully observed Suzuha, then nodded, as if he'd reached some sort of conclusion. Turning to Yui- _san,_ he gestured at the ball in her hands.

"Yui. Throw me the ball. I think our freshman's training needs to begin now."

Yui passed him the ball; a well-aimed one that landed squarely in his hands without him having to move his hands one inch. Turning back to Suzuha, he threw the ball to her. Catching it awkwardly, she held it tightly, and transferred it into a holding, triple-threat pose, by sheer force of habit. It was only after she'd posted up an imaginary defender for a second that she realized what she was doing subconsciously, and stop, face red with embarrassment.

The green-haired coach smiled. Limping up to her, he stood, face very much like an impressionable child's when it chances upon a new toy.

"Let's see what you can do."

Suzuha's eyes shone with determination. She was going to pass this test, and everything else that Midorima- _san_ chose to throw at her. She _did_ have six years' worth of experience, and she wasn't half bad at what she did. She spun the ball ferociously between her palms, then caught it with a satisfying _snap._

 _Let me see how much I can achieve here._

* * *

 **Chapters are going to be this short, I'm afraid.**

 **I don't have much material stored up for this, so updates will be infrequent and small.**

 **Not like I've been lightning quick in my other stories, but I digress.**

 **Thanks for reading, and tell me what you think.**

 **Cheers!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Update-a-rama!**

 **Up-frikkin-date!**

 **Up-to-the-date!**

 **Meh. Read. Fanboying later.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN KUROKO NO BASUKE.**

* * *

 _The opponent's point guard had on a wary expression._

 _She dribbled on the perimeter. Not the place for a center._

 _Taking a sudden jab to the left, she threw the first punch._

 _Backpedalling, her mark nearly fell._

 _Oh, this was too easy._

 _With a heavy breath, she crossed over powerfully, changing her direction in an instant._

 _Oh, sweet symphony. She saw the ungainly weight transfer from one foot to another._

 _The point guard fell flat on her ass._

 _Way too easy._

* * *

Arima Suzuha was a mixture of nervous energy and excitement. The perfect combination for a sportsperson. Midorima looked focused on her, and she could see his careful eyes darting over her entire frame, analyzing every single detail of her technique. She clutched the ball near her abdomen, protecting it with both hands. Keeping the rim in the corner of her vision, she noticed her opponent tread lightly on his injured foot.

 _I'm sorry, coach,_ she was in no mood to be chivalrous. _I'm using that injury against you._

She quickly jabbed her foot to the left, expecting at least a little movement in that direction. She was reasonably confident in her triple threat moves, but what she didn't expect was the utter lack of reaction from Midorima. He had recognized the step for what it was far ahead of what she'd ever seen, in all her matches as a school kid.

She let the ball roll out of her hands, and started her dribble. He had, by virtue of sheer intimidation, taken one of her three options away. This was most certainly going to end badly. Concentrating, she was again drawn to his eyes. The spectacles did nothing to hide the determination in them. He was a forty-something coach and she just a middling college player, but he was serious.

She looked left, and feinted right, finally driving to her dominant side. Considering her speed, she assumed that she would get at least a little breathing room to develop her drive. The coach, however, was too fast. Moving laterally at the speed of light, he stayed with her, hand always checking her dribble. She knew that if her dribble meandered over any closer to his hand than it already was, it would be taken away, and that would be the end.

Suddenly taking a step back, she rose, attempting a fadeaway from the three-point line. It was a shot she was decently good at, though she had never needed to use it. Being a conventional center meant sacrificing such 'fancy' play. Her hands rose, shooting from the chest. She didn't have the kind of muscle power to get it till the rim with a standard over-the-head motion.

But Midorima caught up there too. Ignoring his previously injured foot like it was nothing, he hounded her, keeping his hand in her face, obstructing her vision. She didn't really mind, though; she'd once made this exact shot over an opponent guarding her closer than Midorima was right now. It oad been an absolute blind prayer, but it didn't matter.

Realizing that the bad leg wouldn't let him jump, she raised her power a few notches, aiming for a higher arc. Even then, because of the significant height difference between them, Midorima managed to get two fingers to knock the ball, sending it flying uselessly away towards the baseline. Disappointment washed over Suzuha. Getting blocked in an isolation play was kind of humiliating. But, even then, she _was_ a center, and...

"Don't even think that." Midorima's voice cut into her thoughts. "I can judge by the expression on your face that you're convincing yourself that that play was okay, in a way. That you managed to do well despite the odds." she was a little surprised. How could he gather what she was thinking from her expression? _Am I that easy to read?_

Running over and picking up the ball, Orikasa- _san_ passed it back to Midorima. Returning to the baseline, she stood straight, without saying a single word. Suzuha was impressed and a little creeped out at this crazy machine-like discipline. _Just how browbeaten is this team?_ Midorima threw her the ball again. "Haruno," he called out to the captain. "Guard her." The small forward nodded, stepping up to the fore. Suzuha felt a surge of excitement. To be matched with someone more appropriate gave her a little confidence in her abilities. Winning a one-on-one against the coach from the outset was a near impossibility, but for her to get past a smaller payer would be a less herculean task.

Stepping into a protective stance, she looked her defender in the eye. Matsuzaka- _san_ was serious, but her attention seemed to be elsewhere. Her limbs twitched perfectly, matching the little movements her hands made while holding the ball, but it felt rather reflexive. It was like her hands had a mind of their own, not depending on voluntary instructions from the brain to keep up with Suzuha's fakes. She tried the same thing as before. Jabbing a little, she was relieved to see her opponent give a little space; she wasn't as good at reading moves as the coach was, at least.

Quickly shifting her center of gravity, she crossed the ball over viciously. There was an instant of confusion in Haruno's eyes that was almost immediately replaced by dull concentration. Suzuha had noticed the flash of uncertainty, though. She chose to take full advantage of it. Driving forward, she dribbled hard, smiling wryly as her marker caught up with her. With a sudden change of pace that strained her ankles to their limits, she dropped a between-the-legs crossover that brought the ball right into her shooting pocket.

Her marker had taken a step too far. Suzuha rose with flawless precision, recalling the countless times she'd practiced this shot and made it, both in warm-ups and matches. And then, it all went to hell. Jumping off her unbalanced pose, Haruno changed her direction of motion a tad quicker than Suzuha had, already rising over her shooting form. _Her vertical is freaking insane!_ Suzuha had already gone too far to fake it now. Her feet were already off the hardwood.

It was a contest that was decided in a split second. Haruno rose, but that step she'd taken made her hand reach just a little too late. The shot rose up a centimeter above her outstretched fingers. Suzuha was disappointed, though. She'd messed up the timing of her release a little to accommodate for the block. Now, she could only guess whether it would go in or not. Luckily, she'd managed her arc well. It swished through, touching nothing but the net. _Just a lucky shot._

Even after the play was done, Haruno- _san_ had no emotion on her face. Losing or winning the encounter meant nothing to her. She felt sort of empty from within, a mere shell of a basketball player covering a major vacuum that was supposed to contain her sincerity and drive to play. Suzuha felt sadder about that than she felt about her almost-failed play. Glancing at the rest of the team, she noticed the same dead faces all over, except Matsuda, who was smirking with barely contained hostility.

"That was, I must say, rather surprising," Midorima broke the silence. Suzuha released a breath she didn't know she had been holding. The atmosphere the team created was unreal. The almost palpable tension in the air made it a little suffocating. "Your technique and skills are subpar, but I sense a little bit more left in you."

Insulted as she was by that comment, Suzuha's ears pricked up at the last part. "So far, I have only coached teams full of players well into their peaks, or past them entirely. This team has always been mediocre, full of players who treat basketball as a pastime, appearing only because of sheer force of habit." he paused to adjust his spectacles, a habit Suzuha was finding increasingly annoying. "Not that giving a damn would help them, I'm afraid." The entire team, being humiliated in front of a fresher, stayed as neutral as possible. _How can you not feel indignant at a coach who tossed you aside like trash?_ She wondered.

 _Not like I care, though._ She'd long since come to terms with the fact that fully bonded, happy teams never existed. They were as much a thing of fiction as were snazzleberries and unicorns shitting rainbows. Every school team she'd played for had been severely dysfunctional, and these people were no exception. She ignored the ribbing, choosing to focus on the _bit more left in you_ part.

"From the five minutes of basketball you showed me today, I can see that there is still potential left to be tapped in you. Not much, though," he hastily added as soon as he saw a look of excitement flash across Suzuha's eyes. "I think you shall be a pretty okay center for the next four years."

Suzuha wasn't impressed. _Pretty okay? Bitch, please. I can already see myself in the first team with the level I played at, and by my height. Sorry, Yui-senpai. I'll be taking your spot soon._

"Of course, you _will not_ be starting until Yui retires at the end of the year," Midorima's words brought her back to the ground. _Wait. What? Seriously? You're freaking kidding me, right?_ She said none of it out loud. Nodding humbly was what she was expected to do, and that was exactly what she did. It was pointless to pick a fight on her first day here.

"Your etiquette is impressive. However, what I say still stands. Your role as backup center in this team starts from tomorrow. You will practice with the team, do the same drills, run the exact same amount, shoot the same shots, play the same plays, and until the little spark I see hidden in you surfaces, you shall not complain. Capiche?" That last word felt extremely out of character, like a geezer trying to introduce slang from back when he was a teenager. She tried her best to not roll her eyes, but she failed miserably. Midorima's eyebrow rose a little at the gesture, but he said nothing.

"Dismissed," he called out. The team immediately exited the gym in single file, without a word. Suzuha started walking out, but something moving behind her gave her pause. Turning around, she saw _it_ again.

The picture perfect shooting motion, the fluid jump, the effortless release, and the high arc; it was the same shot that had enthralled her when she'd entered the gym a couple of hours ago. _Swish._ There was no other possible outcome. It was inconceivable that a shot so poetic would ever miss. Adjusting his spectacles again, he began limping over to the baseline, where the ball bounced after going through the net. Somehow, that limp granted the forty-something Midorima a human side, an indication that even someone who could produce a shot so breathtaking was fallible after all.

Suzuha turned and left. There was nothing more to see.

* * *

 **Oh, is the NBA heating up right now.**

 **GSW at 66-7. The Spurs close behind, with OKC making a late surge into relevance.**

 **What a season it's been.**

 **As I watch more of Stephen Curry's greatness (may he return to form soon), these chapters will simply flow out of me.**

 **Writing after a match is simply effortless.**

 **Peace.**


End file.
